


Not His Girlfriend's Bag

by HDLynn



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Coffee, F/M, Fluff, Gender Bender, No Plot, Pre-Relationship, tiny cute werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short snippet from my tumblr account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not His Girlfriend's Bag

Derek should have known something like this would happen eventually.

Even though he had specifically told Stiles in no uncertain terms to never carry him around in a purse or bag like girls seemed to do with small dogs. He figured that he was safe from that happening in particular, but Stiles was the type of girl to just do so just for the sake of humiliating him. Just because he literally turned into one of the fluffiest toy dogs ever once-in-a-blue-moon, did not mean he was any less of a werewolf.

But, when Stiles had declared that she wanted to go out for a coffee after having picked him up from the floor, there was little he could do but try to slip out of her grasp. Oddly enough, in this state, he did not have much body strength and Stiles had rather easily and unceremoniously stuffed him in her satchel stating, “that the air would be good for him.”

He had tried to show his disapproval by growling at her—he was certain, in a very vicious manner—but that had not worked. She simply snorted and said “Goodness gracious, you are so cute when you do that, little fluff ball.” At first, he had sulked in the bottom of the bag, but he had eventually satisfied himself and popped his head out to merely glare at Stiles.

She had ignored him, of course, except for when she had shown him off to other cooing women. Again, his death glare was declared “adorable,” much to his dismay.

It had also pissed him off, but Stiles scratched behind his fluffy little ears and he was pudding in her hands.  
Now, he just would have to suffer the indignation of being carried around in his friend-not-girl-friend-never-a-girlfriend’s bag. He was hardly about to admit to her that he had enjoyed the ear scratches she had absentmindedly given him while ordering whatever that sugary-barely-coffee drink she liked was.


End file.
